Desiderium
by Linda Ku
Summary: "The name's Glenn," he held out his hand, a small smile on his lips. Jessica knew she shouldn't do it. She knew how much of a danger getting attached was. Biting her lip, she reached out and shook his hand, ignoring the tingle that ran up her arm. "Jessica," and just like that, she lost her soul. She blamed the smile. really slow Glenn/OC


Hiya everyone! I've always wanted to write a Walking Dead fic and here it is! This idea has been nagging me for forever so I'm actually really happy it's written out.  
>For those of you reading The Watcher, I have not abandoned that story or anything, Chapter 8 will be up soon :)<br>As always, I don't own The Walking Dead, if I did...Well I don't know shit would've happened. Lori would have manned the f up from the beginning and told Rick about her relationship with Shane, Rick wouldn't be stupid and would have noticed how dangerous Shane was, and Carl wouldn't be a useless kid for the longest time.

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><p>She stared at the sky, ignoring the moans below. Her arms rose, in an attempt to block out the harsh sunlight. A soft breeze gave her reprieve from the punishing heat. It was peaceful.<p>

If you discounted the hordes of walking dead below her.

For some, the absence of sound would have been unnerving. To them, the lack of sound was the beginning of trouble.

It signified danger.

She wasn't most people. The silence offered security. It told her that she was alive for another day. It told her she could rest for a little bit.

When there was no silence, _they_ were there.

She sat up, tilting her head. Her eyes flit from place, trying to place the sound that she had recently heard. Her hands wrapped around the crowbar next to her, offering some sense of protection. Crouching low, she slowly made her way to the edge of the roof she was perched on.

There it was, a gunshot.

She shook her head, frowning softly to herself. Didn't they know not to go around shooting in this city? Shaking her head, she waited for another sound.

Another gunshot.

Smirking softly, she nodded. She had to give it to whoever this person was, they weren't going to go down without a fight.

Scratching the back of her neck, she laid back down. Whoever they were, they were probably gone by now. She frowned again when she heard the sounds of the dead becoming closer. Going back to the edge, she cursed softly at the sight of the horde below her. Turning back, she was momentarily startled by the door opening. Cursing up a storm, she stood tall, staring at the stupefied person in front of her.

"Well, well girly. Watcha doin' in these parts?" She rose an eyebrow, taking a second to take in the sight before her.

Redneck was the first thing that jumped in mind. From his accent to his rough and tumble look. Her eyes strayed to his face, noticing the crooked and somewhat dead teeth. She would have recoiled in disgust if she hadn't already seen the dead.

"Not much for talking, are ya?" He grunted, coming closer to her. She rose her crowbar slightly above her head, her eyes narrowed. He grunted again and moved to the edge of the roof, dismissing her. He let out a cackle, startling her again. Turning towards her, he took a moment to grin.

"Ya ever seen that many monsters?" Never taking her eyes off of him, she slowly moved to the edge again, wincing at the undead below her. Her eyes wide, she turned to look at the redneck. He grinned, nodding his head.

"Since we about to die, I'm going to start shooting. Ain't no way, I'm going down without a fight." He cackled again, before unloading his rounds on the dead. She hissed and took several steps back, pressing her back against the roof wall.

Was he stupid?

She didn't want to be here for this. Her eyes flit from place to place, trying to find a way out of the situation she unintentionally found herself in.

There was no way out.

Gripping her crowbar tightly, she cursed loudly, grabbing the idiot's attention.

"Well, well girly. Ya seem to have a mouth on ya," He grinned, his hand tightening on the gun. Her eyes narrowed until they were slits.

The sound of the door opening again caught her attention. She kept quiet, not wanting the idiot's friends to see her.

She didn't need to be apart of that idiocy. Taking in the group in front of her, she crouched, making sure she wasn't seen. There was a mexican, an asian, two black people and three white people, counting the redneck from earlier.

She wanted to smile at the diversity. Trust the end of the world to bring people together.

Well, it brought _some_ people together.

She frowned at her negative thoughts, shaking her head. She didn't need anyone. Groups of people were dangerous. She knew that.

"Hey, Dixon, are you crazy?" The mexican asked, his voice outraged. The redneck-whose name was Dixon; she wanted to laugh. Who names their kid Dixon?-laughed, he said something unintelligible, making the mexican angry. The black man hissed something at Dixon, making him laugh again.

"Bad enough I've got this taco-bender on my ass all day. Now I'm going to take orders from you? I dont think so, bro. That'll be the day." She rolled her eyes, already knowing what was going to happen.

Really, why were these people so surprised?

Shaking her head, she moved slowly over to the edge of the roof, trying to see how many of the undead were on the back side of the building. She growled softly under her breath at the amount of undead surrounding the building. Their growls were piercing.

They were starving, and she was not about to be on the menu.

Turning back to group, she took a moment to notice the change in dynamic. The redneck was handcuffed to pole and the group-minus the black guy-was making its way back down the stairs.

Her eyes slowly moved to the roof across from her. She wondered if she'd make it, if she jumped.

Even if she didn't make it, at least it would be the fall that would kill her. A bitter smile crossed her face. She never seriously contemplated suicide before, but as the amount of undead grew, the idea was becoming increasingly attractive.

Her eyes strayed towards the other two occupants, watching as they exchanged words. She watched-feeling a little smug that none of the others had noticed her-as the black man talked to the walkie talkie in his hand. He whispered quietly to the walkie talkie and listened to the static, most likely waiting for the sign from the others in the group.

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes straying towards the redneck. If they really had to leave quickly, how in the hell was the black guy going to uncuff the idiot? That took time, and from the looks of things, it didn't look like they had a lot of time left.

She frowned, her hand gripping the crowbar tighter. How was she going to get out of this mess? Her eyes strayed towards the edge of the roof again.

It was always an option.

The black guy jumped up, saying something to the walkie-talkie. She stayed crouched, watching the scene play out before her. The black guy rushed out of the roof, ignoring the cries of the redneck. He took a second to throw back a key that looked like it would be for the handcuffs. She watched as it fell down the drain, wincing at the hopeless look in the redneck's eyes.

"Don't leave me!" He screamed, tears springing in his eyes. They never fell, but the fact that they were there, made her swallow the lump in her throat. She listened to the squealing of tires, hearing them steadily get away from the building. Turning her eyes back on the redneck in front of her, she slowly made her way over to him. She crouched in front of him, getting his attention.

"Wadaya want girly?" He growled. Not saying anything, she pulled out a hair clip from her hair, proceeding to get him out. She ignored the snarling of the undead from the door, focusing on the task at hand. She smiled softly at the small _click_, signifying the man's freedom. He sprung up, rubbing his wrist, grinning at her.

"Thank ya, sweet cheeks. I don't know what I woulda done if I had been left like that," Her eyes strayed towards the saw in front of her and she winced.

She knew exactly what he would've done.

She nodded her hand, jutting her chin at the still growling undead in front of the two of them. He smirked at her.

"Ya ever kill one of them things girly?" He asked. She nodded her head, her mind flashing back to _that_ day. He nodded his head, his face solemn. He knew exactly what she wasn't saying.

"Thinking I could get a name outta ya?" He asked, quickly dispatching the undead in front of him. He had made it to the door, before she answered him.

"Jessica," He turned around, grinning.

"What'd ya say honey pie?" She scrunched up her nose before answering again.

"Jessica, my name's Jessica."

"Well Jessica, nice ta meetcha," a sardonic smile flit across her face.

"How are you planning on leaving this place?" Jessica asked, her hand on her hip. She didn't know why she was still conversing with the man. Maybe it was the part of her that craved human contact, the part that was tired of being by herself.

"How else was I going to leave? I'm busting out of this death trap," he smirked at her, his eyes mocking. She rolled her eyes and cocked her hips.

"I know that, I'm asking how _exactly_ you're leaving." He nodded softly and began to walk towards the door, pausing a moment to throw a look back at her.

"You coming or not? I know the way, and we aren't going to be able to leave if you keep standing there." Jessica hurried to catch up to the man, there was no way she was going to be left alone.

The man may be a racist redneck, but he was her ticket out of this death trap. And Jessica was nothing, if not a survivor.


End file.
